Polar Bears Pasta Payback
by DecietfulHonesty
Summary: Two countries, each forced to take on new leadership decide it's time to stop being overlooked and exact revenge. Mafia!Italy and Communist!Canada
1. Italy

Chapter 1

"Germany!" Feliciano skipped towards Germany with his innocent smile on his face. Ludwig knew better than to fall for that trick a second time, though. That was how he ended up in this warehouse, tied to a chair: Feliciano played the innocent, lost idiot and led Ludwig to this place where he was attacked a bunch of thugs who seemed to only listen to Feliciano.

"Germany, you're not listening to me," Ludwig was snapped out of his flashback by the Italian slapping his already bruised cheek to get his attention, "You know how much I hate it when you ignore me." Feliciano pulled out a handgun and aimed it between Ludwig's eyes, "I asked you, where is Romano?"

"I-I didn't d-do anything with him," Ludwig quickly lied. Ludwig hoped that if he just quietly got rid of Romano, the clueless northern half wouldn't notice for awhile and even if he did, he didn't think Feliciano would figure out who had done it. Obviously, he was wrong on both accounts.

"That's not what I asked, but thanks for confessing. So, Ludwig, are you going to cooperate, or do I have to kill you?" Feliciano asked, all innocence gone from his voice.

"You wouldn't. I-I thought we were family?" Ludwig replied, desperately looking for a distraction.

"No, my friend, you're almost family. Just a friend though, and not related by blood, so not as close. And you're right I can't kill you yet, I still need information from you. But as long as you can still talk, I'm free to do whatever I want," the Italian replied with an evil glint in his eye.

Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief as Feliciano lowered the gun and walked away, but then the realization of what he said hit him. Feliciano had crossed the room to a small table set up and looked over the assortment of weapons. He first picked up huge butcher knife, mumbled something about how it would be impractical, and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed, point down, right next to Ludwig's feet, and before he could recover from that shock, a throwing knife sailed towards him and embedded itself in the back of the chair Ludwig was in. Ludwig froze and, once he recovered, he looked from the knife to the thrower, who was standing across the room looking proud.

"I've always wanted to do that," he said excitedly, "Let's see if I can do it again!" Feliciano rummaged through the weapons on the table looking for another throwing knife and, when he found one, hurled it towards Ludwig but missed the chair, hitting his shoulder.

"Scheiße, scheiße, scheiße!" Ludwig screamed.

"Oops, guess not…" Feliciano said, some of his former innocence creeping into his voice, "And stop screaming, it isn't that bad," Feliciano taunted Ludwig before pulling the knife out.

"Also, notice that isn't the same blood as Romano and I," he said holding the bloody knife in front of the German's face, "I can tell because both Romano's blood and your blood were at the Romano's house. I guess he put up quite a fight, si? I wouldn't expect anything less from him"

"How did you-?"

"The Mafia has more connections than the old Italy. It makes finding people much faster," Feliciano interrupted while wiping off the knife, "So are you ready to tell me what you did with him?"

Ludwig stared dumbfounded, still in shock about the 'Mafia' part of what Feliciano said, so he took Ludwig's blank stare as a no. In the brief pause, Feliciano had picked up a solid wooden baseball bat and swung it at Ludwig's head.

"You know, I think I should get into this baseball game. I could be really good at it," Feliciano mused while waiting for Ludwig to focus again, "Ready?"

Ludwig shook his head.

"Aw…really? How about now?" Feliciano followed with another swing of the bat, this time at Ludwig's ribs, "Still no?" another hit with the bat at his leg this time. When Ludwig made no reply, Feliciano swung once more, at his other leg. Over Ludwig's screams Feliciano heard a sickening crunch and paused for a moment, inspected the bat, and then poked Ludwig in the leg with it, causing him to scream louder.

"I think you broke my bat, Ludwig," Feliciano pouted, "Well, enough of that anyway." he said tossing the bat aside. He kicked over the chair, with Ludwig in it, causing him to crack the side of his head that wasn't hit with a bat on the floor.

"There, now your head will swell evenly. So are you ready to give in yet?" Feliciano asked, sounding bored.

"He-he's at A-Alfred's," Ludwig forced out.

"Finally! Now that's taken care of…" Feliciano said, relieved, and started his next task. He gathered a few containers of gasoline he stashed there earlier and dumped them on the floor and everything else in the warehouse. He then went over to the table full of weapons, picked a few he wanted to keep, put them in his pocket, and knocked the table over.

"I have to keep my favorites you know, as good luck charms," he explained to the semi-conscious German on the floor, "By the way, where's your phone?"

Since Ludwig was too dazed to answer at the moment, Feliciano checked all of his pockets until he found it and dialed a random number in Ludwig's contact list. After a few rings the other line picked up with a peppy, "Bonjour, mon ami!"

"Ah. Francis," Feliciano whispered to Ludwig and tossed the phone towards him, "Tell him where you are and nothing else."

Ludwig managed to tell Francis the location of the warehouse, leaving out any details including Feliciano, as the Italian now had a gun pointed at his head. Once he finished, Feliciano took the battery out of the phone and threw it across the warehouse. He then took a very expensive looking lighter out and started to walk towards the door.

"Feliciano, why-why would you do this to me?" Ludwig asked in a final attempt to save his life.

"Because," Feliciano replied stepping outside the ring of gasoline on the floor, " No one messes with family."

He tossed the lighter on the ground and set the warehouse up in flames before casually walking off to complete his revenge.


	2. Canada

A series of shots rang out around him, hitting the last of Matthew's allies in the chest, leaving him alone on the field. He dove behind a bunker, attempting to refill his handguns but was seen by an enemy. Before his opponent could fire, Matthew had rolled into the open, where he was soon spotted by the rest of the enemy forces. As he darted towards the next bunker, he ejected the empty cartridges, pulled two more from his belt, tossed them into the air, and snapped them into the guns in his hands. Then, while still running to the bunker, shot the remaining opponents and slid behind the bunker. The buzzer went off, signaling that Matthew's team had won the paintball match.

His teammates rushed out from the sidelines to congratulate him and cheer. Matthew, good-naturedly high-fived them all and patted the other team on the back, then politely disconnected himself from the crowd. He put away the parts of his paintball guns, deciding he would clean them later, when he had time. He was on a very strict training schedule, courtesy of his new boss, so right after paintball he had to run to hockey. Usually by this time of day, he was so worn out that any anger he felt about his situation was replaced with exhaustion but not today. Today was the anniversary of his government's collapse and the day it was officially replaced by Communism. And for a whole year Alfred hadn't noticed. _The best part is Alfred is so paranoid about Communists and he doesn't realize when they're right next door to him, _Matthew thought bitterly. He continued to reflect on his past year in hell all the way into the rink and by the time the starting buzzer went off, Matthew was out for blood. After a few plays, a teammate bumped his shoulder and all Matthew's rage was let loose in his fist which flew into the player's face. Matthew stood by his teammate, who had hit the ground and was trying to stop the bleeding from his nose, and waited for someone else to get too close. The other players kept their difference, fearing he had lost his mind and would start killing soon, and helped the wounded player off the ice. Matthew tossed his hockey stick on the ice and skated out of the rink.

As he stormed into the locker room, he knew who he had to take his anger out on. The country who left him to his fate and didn't bother himself to help, or even notice: his oblivious brother, Alfred. As he packed up his hockey uniform, Matthew thought sadistically of the many ways he could go about getting the one thing he wanted most: _Payback._

**I figured out how to do an Author's Note! Yeah… I'm slow. And sorry I suck so much with updating and I wish I could promise I wouldn't leave a story for so long…but I can't. I'm a lazy arse….but if you're reading this, THANKS! Btw this is a new chapter 2 cuz chapter 2 was awful….it's better now but still awful….**


	3. America

"Okay, hostage, time for your eats," Alfred screamed from the kitchen. He walked into his living room with a tray of food for Lovino, who was currently duct taped to his couch. Germany apparently got fed up with Lovino, kidnapped him, and dumped him on Alfred's doorstep with a note that said to keep him alive until he came to "dispose of him." Alfred didn't really know what to do with him, so he duct taped his wounds and made him a cheeseburger. Since Lovino's hands were tied, Alfred sat down on coffee table to feed him.

"Say 'ah', you Fascist," Alfred grumbled.

"Baciami il culo, American bastard," Lovino said as he spat on the floor, "I wouldn't eat your fried cow guts if I were starving to death."

Alfred sighed and started eating the cheeseburger, "Well, don't worry about that. Once Ludwig gets rid of your idiot brother, he'll be back for you." At that, Lovino's annoyed glare became threatening, "No one messes with family," he growled.

"Ooooh, if I was wearing boots I'd be shak-" Alfred looked down at his boots, "Oh…well I'm totally shaking in them," he recovered quickly. There was a quiet knock at the front door so Alfred went to answer it, and standing there was a very pissed off Matthew.

"Heeeey…you," Alfred said, completely blanking out on who was standing on his doorstep.

"Hey Alfred, can I come in?" Matthew said innocently.

"Um…yeah sure. Welcome to my humble abode and all that, just ignore the thing on the couch. I'm gonna make myself another cheeseburger, want one?"

"Sweet god, NO!" Matthew involuntarily screamed. Alfred took no offense and headed into the kitchen, turning on his radio loudly to a country station. Matthew, curious as to what the 'thing on the couch' was, went into the living room to find Lovino, covered in duct tape, trying very hard not to pass out.

"Alfred, what did you do to Lovino?" he shouted into the kitchen.

"What? Oh, that was Ludwig, I'm just babysitting," Alfred said simply, and went back to his cooking. All Matthew's bloodlust went out the window seeing an innocent nation in such poor condition, and he tracked down Alfred's first aid kit to start fixing him up. Lovino tried to focus on Matthew, and gave him a questioning look.

"So, why are you helping me? I thought Alfred was your brother," he slurred.

"You know, you should really not talk much to try to save as much energy as you can, you've lost a lot of blood. And Alfred may be my brother, biologically, but mentally, he's an only child and the world exists to kiss his ass," Matthew said bitterly and viciously ripped off a piece of duct tape causing Lovino to curse in Italian. The room lapsed into silence, with the exception of Alfred's off-key singing from the kitchen and the occasional Italian curse.

There was a knock at the front door again, and since Matthew knew Alfred couldn't hear it, he went to answer it. As he opened the door he was greeted with a punch to the nose and then slammed into the wall with a knife to his throat.

"Che cosa hai fatto con Lovino, bastardo Americano!" Feliciano hissed.

"Um…I-I'm not America, if that's what you said," Matthew said, trying to get the knife as far away from his throat as possible.

"Mi scusi, I mean, sorry," Feliciano said, releasing Matthew, "You look just like him though. What is your name?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"It's Matthew, don't worry about it, no one remembers. And Lovino is in the living room, I was just fixing him up."

Matthew returned to his task of putting acceptable bandages on Lovino, while Feliciano sat next to him on the couch looking appalled.

Romano opened his eyes to glance at Feliciano and muttered, "I hope you're not still going to talk to the potato bastard."

"Don't worry, fratello, I took care of him," he responded, darkly. Matthew glanced warily at him, but didn't feel the need to question it. Lovino didn't feel the same way.

"How?"

"Just trapped him in a burning building," Feliciano responded sounding proud, "By the way, Matthew, why were you here?"

Matthew hid his appalled look quickly and said, "I came to assess how much of a threat Alfred is, and decide what would be the best way to kill his ego."

"Wait, what do have against Alfred? I thought he was your brother,"

"Long story short, Communism's a bitch and Alfred did nothing to help me when I needed him." Matthew finished, replacing the last of Romano's bandages.

"Communism, huh? I knew you looked different," Feliciano said, admiringly, "Well, since we both want to take down Alfred, how about we work together?" Feliciano held out a hand to Matthew.

"Allies?" he asked. Matthew took his hand and shook it and with an evil grin said,

"Allies."

* * *

Baciami il culo- Kiss my ass

Che cosa hai fatto con Lovino, bastardo Americano- What have you done with Lovino, American bastard

YAY! I fnally typed it! It's been written for months now, i just havent had the motivation to type/ improve it... sorry I suck


	4. Ambush

Lovino was still weak from blood loss so Matthew and Feliciano helped him to his feet and, after a few attempts, succeeded in getting him into a standing position. Matthew left the Italians in the living room and went to the garage to find some sort of weapons to use against Alfred. When he returned he had a large piece of lumber, which he tossed to Feliciano, and an old hockey stick.

"Did you have anything planned, Matthew?" Feliciano whispered.

Matthew considered for a moment before shaking his head, "I didn't have anything specific. I was just assuming we could go in and knock him unconscious. I have a few ideas after that point."

Feliciano rolled his eyes. "All North Americans are the same. Just charge in and make it up as they go along," he said, ducking as Matthew to a swing at him.

Lovino pulled a switchblade from his pocket and flipped it open.

"We could 'knock him out' _permanently_ and not have to deal with him anymore," Lovino suggested darkly. Feliciano seemed to like this idea but Matthew vehemently disagreed.

"We need him to be alive to get the most out of our revenge, trust me," Matthew said.

"Fine," Feliciano huffed, "You should stay behind anyway, Lovino. You're still too weak to fight him." Feliciano grabbed Lovino's switchblade and stuffed it in his pocket before Lovino began rambling in Italian angrily. After Lovino had calmed down and started pouting on the couch, Matthew briefed Feliciano on the strategy. He crept silently to the opposite entrance to the kitchen while Matthew moved to the main entrance. Matthew peered peered in the open doorway and saw Alfred still facing the stove, with a slowly growing pile of hamburger patties on a plate beside him. Matthew made eye contact with Feliciano and signaled for him to wait until after he moved in to make his attack.

Lovino, after sneaking up behind Feliciano, interpreted the 'stop' signal as 'charge in screaming' which he did, grabbing the plank of wood from Feliciano and flailing it wildly. Matthew flinched, waiting for the sickening _thud_ that never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Alfred had whipped around in a fraction of a second and grabbed Lovino's weapon mid-swing. There was a dangerous glint in his eye before he smirked and tossed the piece of wood across the kitchen, with Lovino still attached.

"Shit," Matthew whispered to himself, "There goes the element of surprise."

The attack on his family sent Feliciano into a rage. He grabbed a picture frame off the wall and flung it at Alfred like a shuriken, doing the same thing with other decorations while charging at Alfred. Alfred blocked all the attacks effortlessly and grabbed the hot skillet he had been cooking in. Matthew saw Lovino's switchblade glinting in Feliciano's hand and knew it was time for him to step in. Feliciano stopped his charge to size up Alfred and the two began to circle each other like wolves. As soon as Alfred's back was to him, Matthew slipped into the kitchen, aiming a swing at the back of Alfred's head. Alfred heard the incoming assailant, dropped to the floor, swept Feliciano's legs from under him, and used the handle of the frying pan to jerk the hockey stick out of Matthew's hands. He lunged towards Matthew, frying pan raised for attack, but jerked to a stop when he realized who his attacker had been.

"M-Mattie? Hehe, what are ya doing, bro?" Alfred asked.

Matthew, upon losing his weapon, assumed a defensive stance with his arms raised to shield him from Alfred's attack. He didn't relax his stance even as the frying pan slipped out of Alfred's hands and clattered to the floor.

"I'm getting even for over a century of your ignorance. You think you can be the asshole of the world forever with no consequences? Fortunately for you, all the negative consequences of your actions turned into my problem first. Unfortunately, all that frustration my country felt built up and turned to into riots. By the way, how did you not notice a new dictator setting up a Communist government just north of your border?" By this point Matthew's voice had raised and he was standing inches from Alfred's face. Alfred could do no more than stare in shock at Matthew's outburst, and even took a step back from him.

Matthew was relieved to finally give Alfred a piece of his mind, but his reaction was not what he was expecting. He was hoping for Alfred to panic and rage and attack him. That's what Matthew had been prepared for. Standing in front of him was not the 'asshole of the world,' but a broken Alfred, who had the memory of another family member attacking him painfully brought up. While the sight would have wrenched Matthew's heart normally, now it just pissed him off. He huffed and marched towards Alfred getting in his face again.

"What are you going to do, America? There's an evil Commie standing in your house and you're going to let him walk away?" Matthew shoved Alfred backwards, causing him to trip and fall over Feliciano who was trying to scuttle over to an unconscious Lovino. Alfred calmly stood up, looking over Matthew, nothing the changes in his appearance caused by the new regime in his country that he hadn't originally seen. He was much thinner and slightly ragged looking, but stronger. Like he had been through months of rigorous exercise without proper nutrition, which he had. He was much more pale and his eyes had a dead, humorless glint in them. Alfred's somber attitude only infuriated the Canadian who continued to antagonize Alfred.

"Come on Commie-hater. Fight me! Show me why your twisted democracy is the only way to run a country. Fight me damnit!' Matthew screamed, advancing on Alfred and shoving him backwards to provoke his fighting instinct. The only reaction he received was a hurt look and a quiet whisper of, "What happened to you, Mattie?"

Matthew practically felt his blood boil. He came here to fight America, and here he was being weak and sentimental. Matthew saw red as his hands clenched into fists and he swung at Alfred's face. Sharp pain shot through Alfred's jaw from, what he originally thought was shock, but when he tasted blood he realized Matthew had actually hurt him. Last time Matthew had hit him, it had barely phased Alfred. He stumbled back a few paces and looked back towards Matthew, who was breathing heavily and shaking with anger. Alfred no longer saw his soft-spoken, passive aggressive baby brother, but a violent and potentially dangerous Communist neighbor who had attacked him. Switching into "ass-kickin' mode", as he called it, he launched himself at Matthew, pinning him to the floor. Matthew jerked his legs between him and Alfred and kicked Alfred off of him. While Matthew scrambled to his feet, Alfred jumped up and charged at Matthew again, catching him in the stomach and barreling through the glass door that led to Alfred's deck. Their momentum carried them across the deck and they crashed through the safety railing. Though the fall was rather short, the pair was still winded by the impact with the ground. Alfred had instinctually flung out his arms to try to catch himself and now was pretty sure his wrists were broken, or at least sprained. Matthew jumped up and was on guard in a matter of seconds, though he was still wheezing and trying to catch his breath. Alfred rolled over onto his back ignoring the Canadian. They were both silent for a minute until they had caught their breath.

"What the hell, Mattie?" Alfred wheezed,"I'm your brother, why would you attack me?" He pushed himself up on his elbows to glare at Matthew who still had not relaxed his defensive stance.

"You're no brother to me. What kind of brother forgets the existence of the other brother and only acknowledges him when he wants something?" Matthew screamed.

"Matthew, catch!" Feliciano screamed from the deck. Matthew looked up in time to see the hockey stick being throw down to him and caught it one-handed. He turned his attention back to Alfred and his hate filled gaze faltered seeing Alfred with tears in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, Mattie. I didn't..." he trailed off as Matthew's grip loosened slightly on the hockey stick. Alfred used this opening to kick Matthew's legs out from under him and scramble to his feet in an attempt to run away. Matthew recovered faster than Alfred and chased after him. Alfred flung himself over his fence and rounded the corner towards the open street where he could get help. Instead, he was met with a plank of wood to the head and crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Feliciano stepped over his body looking bored and waited to Matthew to catch up. Matthew skidded to a stop and paused to catch his breath.

Feliciano prodded Alfred with his foot and said, "You really should get people to do this kind of thing for you." Matthew only shot him a quick glare as he rolled Alfred onto his back.

"You didn't kill him, right?" he asked. Feliciano shook his head. "Good. We probably should get him inside before he wakes up."

Matthew looped his arms under Alfred's and waited for Feliciano to grab his feet. When he didn't Matthew looked around to find the mafiosi crouched beside a bush, playing with a kitten and whispering to it in Italian. Matthew cleared his throat loudly and jerked his head towards Alfred's feet hoping Feliciano would get the message.

"What? I made a new friend," Feliciano reasoned, now stroking the kitten, "Friends are good when you're in my business."

"It's important when your friends are hit-men, not cats. Now help me before he wakes up," Matthew hissed.

Feliciano rolled his eyes and grabbed Alfred's legs. "Sorry, I didn't know you were the Mafia expert," Feliciano replied sarcastically.

"Well, I've managed to eradicate all forms of organized crime from my country. Something you have obviously failed to do," Matthew retorted.

"Hm. We'll have to fix that."

"We'll talk later. Let's just get inside before Alfred's neighbors get nosy."

The pair dragged Alfred into the trashed house and hid him in a closet, gagged and bound, until nightfall. When it was late enough, they threw him into the trunk of Feliciano's car and helped a still-delirious Lovino into the back seat and drove off.

"Phase 1 complete," Matthew mumbled.

The two Italians responded in unison, "Can we get some pasta now?"

_Some things never change_, Matthew thought.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm so so so so sorry I haven't updated this in ages. No excuses, just being lazy and having writer's block. I'll try to stop being awful soon .


End file.
